


Just Take It All In Stride

by silentswirls



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-14
Updated: 2014-04-21
Packaged: 2018-01-01 10:37:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,044
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1043810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silentswirls/pseuds/silentswirls
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dave Strider meets a boy named John Egbert on his very first day of college. Shenanigans ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Music bleeds out of the speakers, filling your ears with a tune quite familiar to you. Your eyes gaze up to the faded blue sky, small birds soaring overhead. You scoot to the side of the roof, gravel and sand moving under you. The beat thumps in tune to your heart. This is relaxed. This is nice. This is safe.

-

Five years later, you’re cleaning out the musty junk-filled room in the corner of your brother’s old apartment. It is exactly one day until you need to move out for college. Your fingers run over an old cardboard box, sealed shut with shocking blue duct tape. The painter’s tape comes off, and seated atop a stack of old records is a pair of glossy bright red headphones. The same ones you used for so long. You wonder if they still work now. You decide to test that. Plugging it into your computer, you realize that no, no it couldn’t work. Not after all these years. It turns out you were wrong. A melody floods into your ears and you are hit with a wave of nostalgia. Your mind comes back to you with the thought that maybe you can sit on the rooftop just one more time before you leave and embark on a new journey. Create a new memory and relive the old days where you would just sit and look at the clouds pass or the stars twinkle. Taking your headphones and your laptop, you head up to the roof with a heavy heart. Outside is a beautiful place, full of wind and the small squawks of gulls passing overhead. A mix of gravel and sand crunches under your feet as you sit down and turn the music up. Familiar, isn’t it? The music takes you back to place where everything was safe. You close your eyes and your inner dialogue takes over your mind, rambling on and on as the sky fades from blue to a rich black, pink clouds dotting the sunset and covering the moon.

_I miss a lot of things about this. I miss when you used to cook breakfast. I miss the days where you’d be home early from work and you’d come home to a bright smile and a happy greeting. I miss the days where things got casual and I’d come home to a smirk and a snarky comment. I miss movie night and the smell of popcorn as it went through the house. I miss the days where we’d just sit on the couch and let our minds wander and let the T.V play, serving as a background tune to our thoughts. I miss the early morning strifes up in the chilly rooftop air. But most of all, I miss you. You and your dumb puppets, always rigged to a trap or two up in the ceiling. You and your southern accent, always rubbing off in some way on all the people you meet. You, with your pointy kamina shades that John said looked dumb. You, with your personality and sarcasm you always carry around with you on a pedestal for arrogance and wittiness. You, my hero for as long as I live. I miss you, and I would give anything to see you again._

_But I know I don’t have anything left to give anymore. I hope that’s alright with you, Bro. I hope you’re alright wherever you are. I beat the game, see? I did it. I know you always say Striders don’t cry but I hope you’ll make an exception for that time I won. Me and my friends, my friends who are probably better off in life than I am beat that twisted game. It’s been a while since I’ve seen them. I miss them as much I miss you. I wish you were there to see what I did. Your session would have been happy. But now all of you are gone and I’m lost. I’m lost without the companions I’ve had for many years now and I need directions. Someone give me directions to the place where you are. I need to see you again. I need something. Just something to make me remember more._


	2. New Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> woah apartment shenanigans   
> strap on your reading glasses or whatever

An abundance of trees and mountains is all you’ve been seeing for the past few hours. Taking a taxi wasn’t the best idea, but it was all you had. Leaning back in the plush backseat of the cab, you let sleep wash over you.

When the car stops, you are greeted with the sight of a tall brick building. Students run in and out of the doors and you sigh, opening the door and pulling out a wad of cash, leaving it in the passengers seat for the driver to pick up. Another sigh escaped your lips, different this time, at a brunette boy walking towards you. You’ve sworn you had seen him somewhere. 

The two of you exchange a few words. You tell him you’re new here, that you don’t know your way around. He offers to show you the campus, and whisks your bags away from you with a big grin and a laugh. Along the way towards the main office, you learn that his name is John Egbert and you take in everything about him, how he likes to bake and how he plays piano. You watch him carefully, how he smiles when he talks about his friends that you should “totally meet!” and how his smile falls as you ask him about his family. You don’t prod any further, though, and that gives him enough time to ask you about yourself. You tell him everything, from where you came from all the way down to your fucking blood type. You definitely remember him from somewhere. You swear he was a childhood friend or some shit like that.

As you go through classes, you can’t stop thinking about him. His voice clouds your thinking and sketches of his glasses and the designs on his t-shirt take over your messily-written notes. You flash back to when your bro was still around and you were...taking pictures? You recall a familiar _bloop_ sound as someone came online. You mull the sound over in your head. What was that? It was Pester...something. PesterFriend? It comes to you in the middle of English, and you nearly shout it out at the top of your lungs. Pester...chum! _Pesterchum._

The bell rings, cutting through your last fleeting thoughts. You pack up your stuff quickly, shoving your books deep into the depths of your backpack, rushing to meet him in the hallway. You make an excuse to see him again as he goes to his car, how you need to unpack in your new apartment down in the city. Once he says he can make it, you flash him a small smile and hand him a slip of paper with your number and address scrawled down upon it, and both of you hurry off to your cars. As you drive, you can't help but think about why he didn't hesitate to say yes. If some random dude came up to  _you_ with a phone number and his address written on a piece of old binder paper, you would have said no and gave him a series of weird looks as he walked away.

When you see him pull up in front of the building, your heart leaps. Racing to meet him at the front, you trip over your own two feet and land skidding in front of him.

_Good going Strider. Whatever happened to agility and speed here, huh? Guess you momentarily forgot, didn't you. Bro has probably done a full fucking 360 in his grave by now-_

“Oh gosh, Dave! Are you okay?”

 _Shit._ You flash him another one of your rare half smiles as you let him help you up.

“Yeah. I’m fine, don’t worry.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t mind me, just falling for you.”

_Why the fuck did I say that jesus christ I need a fucking filter or some shit_

“Dave!”, he whines with a wide smile.

“What? Technically, I did.”

You look at him innocently, getting a swat to your cheek and a pat on the back as you both go into the apartment building.

You can tell that this friendship will be one hell of an adventure, but you still can't stop thinking about the little sound that interrupted most of your younger years.  

-

You arrive at your apartment after a long, awkward elevator silence ( _in which_ _you could have asked him then, numbnuts_ ) and fumble to get your keys, eventually pulling them out of your pocket and unlocking the door with a quiet click. The door swings open to a bleak setting. Boxes and dust line the floors and the bedroom sits off to the side with the window wide open, letting a cool breeze sweep through the apartment.

He steps inside, looking around and picking up your records, reading them, and setting them down gingerly as you scurry around, trying to tidy up the place before you unpack, dusting at every surface and sweeping the floors like a fucking madman as John just stands and watches.

_So much for helping me unpack, Egbuddy.  
_

His laughter breaks through your thoughts and you glance over to see he has broken into one of your boxes, taken out a photo album, and is now flipping through it. You flinch upon reading the cover. ‘Age 12-13’. Oh god. You know that inside is a plethora of stupid photos that were taken of you as a kid and now John’s probably taking in _every page_ \- you don’t have time to finish that thought, as the little trickster has made his way into the most embarrassing part of your life: the ironic selfies. Now you know somewhere deep in your heart that you might have actually enjoyed taking those, but right now you deny everything, snatching the album away from John right before he gets to that one page. You suddenly know what kind of pictures you were taking.

“You...you don’t need to see that part of the album, John.”

You stuff the album into a box on your left and try to hide your blush by maintaining the ol’ Strider poker face and pushing your glasses down a little.

“But Dave! That was the best part!”

“No, it wasn’t.”

“Yeah, it was!”

The two of you argue for a while like an goddamn old married couple until he finally gives up.

“Okay, fine! I’ll try not to poke in any of your business again, sorry!”

“You better be sorry.”

You give him your best fake pout and watch him try to hide his giggles behind his hand. It is only then that you realize you are smiling too.

 _The kid’s contagious_.

You catch his eyes again and he grins. You find yourself grinning along with him. 

-

Three hours later, the two of you are slowly putting together a couch from Ikea. He mutters something under his breath and you raise an eyebrow in his general direction as you peek over the manual.

“What’d you say, Egbert?”

He sighs loudly.

“I said, fuck me in the ass with a cactus and piss on my grave. Where did those screws go?”

You drop the manual within your fits of laughter and earn yourself a kick to the ankle, causing you to fall next to the bag of screws.

“Oh, hey! Here they are!”

“You’re a dick, dude.”

“I know, but it was totally worth it. Plus you laughed at me first."

You smile up at him and he swats your nose.

"Get up, dude! We gotta finish this.”

You look up again to see his outstretched hand and you reach to grasp it, pulling him down with you. He lands softly on a couch cushion and rolls over, crushing you. The both of you lay there for a while, giggling like a pair of schoolgirls, until he scoots over to sit next to your head. He picks up the screws and begins hammering as you lie, still laughing to yourself, on the floor.

As the sky begins to darken, you turn to him.

“Hey John?”

“Yeah?”

“You hungry or something?”

“Yeah, I’m starving. Should we go out or...?”

“Let’s order a pizza. That sound good to you?”

“Sure!”

You grab your phone and dial the nearest pizza company as he talks your ear off next to you on your newly built couch. You try in vain to get your order through correctly as he goes on loudly about his house and how he should _totally_ bring you there... _wait._

_This shota wants to take me to his place jesus christ on a cracker sign me up hot damn-_

You realize the line had gone dead a while ago and now John was staring at you with an eyebrow cocked.

“Dave?”

You make a slight humming, grunting noise as you slip your phone back into your pocket.

“I’m fine, don’t worry your pretty mind, Egbert.”

He laughs, a tinkling, small laugh that makes you want to record it and play it over and over again until the sun comes up again.

“I’m not! I was just wondering, since you were staring off into space a little bit and I was like ninety percent sure the pizza dude hung up already.”

You grin at him, about to reassure him that it was nothing, but said pizza dude was already here. _God, Washington services are fast as hell._

He’s sitting on a bar stool when you come back, the table already magically set with your new wine glasses and a bottle of red wine. You put the pizza on the table as he lights a candle.

“You know, this isn’t some romantic date, right?”

“Yeah, I just thought it needed some candles.”

“Hah, like I’d believe _that_.”

“Oh shut up and just dish out the pizza, dude. I’m starving and it smells like well fed-human heaven in here.”

You flash him your best knowing smirk as you get out a pizza cutter from a cabinet and start cutting, plopping a slice on his plate and smiling to yourself as he digs in right as the plate hits the table.


	3. Melodies and Maple Syrup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> mother fucking pancakes, people  
> im lovin it

About a year later, you’re looking through the same photo books he had leafed through as his name lights up your phone. Picking it up, you hear his shaky voice on the other end.

“Hey Dave?”

You frown. He sounds like a goddamn tossed salad of scared, anxious and afraid. You pull yourself and your stupid emotions together and give a somewhat concerned response.

“Yeah John? What’s wrong?”

“I need you to come over to my place. I’ve got something to show you.”

“I’ll be there in like fifteen minutes.”

“Thanks.”

You look out the window in slight defeat as he hangs up. Snow covers the ground and no one has bothered to bring out the snowplow. It’s early December, and the two of you had just been let out for winter break. Slipping on a pair of snow boots, you head outside.

- 

He looks as worried as his voice sounded when he answers the door. But the facade goes away as he wraps you in a giant hug, squeezing you tightly. You hug him back, confused.

“Dude. What’s this all about?”

“Dave.”

“John.”

“Dave!”

“John.”

“Oh come on, it’s your birthday, dumbass!”

_Oh. Yeah, that’s right. December 3 rd. Your birthday. _

You remember that your bro never did much of anything for your birthday when you were little, but you appreciate John’s effort. As he grabs your hand and leads you inside, you realize he isn’t done just yet. You get dragged up the stairs and into his room and he sets you down on the edge of his bed, facing his piano. He sits on the piano bench and you look at him with a raised eyebrow.

“So, you know how I said I haven’t played this piano in years, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, I tricked you! I’ve been playing it a lot.”

He turns around and places his fingers above the keys.

“I wrote you a song. For your birthday.”

You smile as a sweet melody comes from the little black piano. Your grin becomes wider as he starts to sing.

_Do you remember when we were just kids_  
 _And cardboard boxes took us miles from what we would miss_  
 _Schoolyard conversations taken to heart_  
 _And laughter took the place of everything we knew we were not_  
  
 _I wanna break every clock_  
 _The hands of time could never move again_  
 _We could stay in this moment_  
 _For the rest of our lives_

As he finishes and turns around on the bench, you wipe a stray tear that escaped from the confines of your shades. He looks at you with wide eyes.

“Was it good?”

You push yourself up and wrap him in your arms.

“It was perfect.”

 

 

_-_

The next few months go by quicker than you had previously thought. You got a job, a good one, DJ-ing at a local club. John moved in with you, and things started picking up in your relationship.

You realize this as you roll over in your bed and find a sleeping Egbert next to you. God, how lucky you are. His smile lights up any room and his messy hair is the highlight of your day. He always speaks with a happy tone to his voice, keeping your energy high and buzzing for more adrenaline. You realize you’re saying all of this aloud as he turns over to you, giving you a lazy smile. You grin back, trying to hide the blush that had formed on your cheeks. He kisses it away, though, sleepy kisses. The best kind.

He flops back down onto his pillow and stares up at the ceiling in silence. You sit next to him, holding his hand gently, waiting for the next word. Squeezing your hand in his, he asks,

“Hey. Wanna make pancakes?”

You grin at him and squeeze back.

“Hell yes.”

The two of you end up cleaning flour and egg white off the cupboards in your shitty apartment, laughing together all the way through. You can feel his gaze turning to you as you shake a mix of flour and sugar (and _is that maple syrup_?) out of your hair over the sink.

You can hear him snickering to himself as you shake the last of it out and turn on your heel to stare at him. He stops, opening his mouth to ask you a question. You raise a questioning eyebrow and he shuts his mouth.

“Nevermind.”

You shrug.

“It’s cool, dude.”

He smiles, an uneasy smile, but you accept it anyway. You forget it even happened by the end of the day. 

But you can't fight the feeling he had something important to tell you. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song John plays is Inevitable by Anberlin.


	4. Presents

He turns to you later in a pizza place, doing the same thing. You cock your head at him and he sighs, fumbling with something in his pocket. As he resumes eating, you shrug and do the same, with an occasional sideways glance towards him.   
He finally speaks up when the both of you are at home, making dinner.   
“Hey, Dave?”   
You blink at him.   
“Do you think- this is a dumb question, but do you think you’ll still love me in like...”   
He pauses. You fidget with your jacket zipper.   
“Ten years?” You smile.   
“Of course. You know I love you to the moon and back, dude. I’ll always love you, even when we’re both dead. I’ll find a way.”   
He grins, that stupid grin you always see on his face when he talks about you, and continues chopping carrots.   
“Good. You’ll love your birthday present, then.”   
You think nothing of it, shooting him a small smile to show your gratitude.

The next day you wake up to his whispers in your ear.   
“ _Dave. Dave. Dave. It’s your birthday. Dave. Birthday boy. Get up._ ”   
You lazily swat his hand away and roll over to face him.   
“Whaddya wan’.”   
He giggles and grabs your hand, practically pulling you out of the bed with him.   
“It’s your birthday, Dave! Get up, lazy ass.”   
You stumble along as he shows you the kitchen, which is decked out with birthday stuff and presents everywhere, all addressed to you. He sits down on the only open chair and motions to the presents.   
“Well? Open ‘em!”   
You grin and walk over to the pile of presents and pick out the biggest one.   
  
_From Mr. Egbert – Happy Birthday Dave. I hope you enjoy_ , it reads. You tear it open and get a projectile pie to the face. John runs up to you with some napkins, laughing his ass off. You grumble as he wipes your face off. “You know how my dad is, Dave!”   
Starting on the next present, you feel John sit next to you as you rip it open. He reads the perfectly placed tag out to you.   
“ _To Dave, From Rose. Happy Birthday dear brother. I hope you are having a nice party with John. You two have fun and stay safe._ ”   
The wrapping paper reveals a small box. You remove the tape, shaking about a handful of condoms out onto the carpet.

“Goddamnit Rose.”   
John is dying laughing next to you and shakily hands you the next present, still giggling to himself. You tear open the wrapping paper to reveal a large box. Taking the top off, it reveals another box. Happy birthday. And another one. From Dirk. And another one. And Jake. And yet another one, until the box is the size of your palm. You open it carefully, peering inside. In the box sits two small jellybeans, one red and another blue. John grins and takes the blue one, popping it in his mouth. You sigh and grab the red one, realizing way too late that it’s a hot cinnamon.   
“My mouth is on fire. Egbert help me!”  
John smiles knowingly and hands you a cup of milk. You gulp it down and sigh.   
“Thanks. Fucking brother and his damn boyfriend are probably laughing to themselves right now. Damn those two.”   
You spy a oddly wrapped package off to the side.   
“The fuck is that?” John hands it to you.   
“It’s from Jade! Open it!” You raise an eyebrow, ripping it open.   
“Oh wow.”   
Two squiddles, a red and a blue one, sit inside the wrapping paper. They’re stuck together in an oddly sexual manner, but you grin anyway and set them on a table. Out of the corner of your eye, you see John blush and feel him shift next to you. He hands you a small box, smaller than the jelly bean box, with a bow set on top of it.

You open it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whats in the box
> 
> We will never know


	5. It Was A Ring

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> oooooooooh sHIT

A shining silver band stared back at him, gleaming in the setting sun.

"What. John. What is this. John." You look from your boyfried to the ring to your boyfriend to the ring and oh my god  _hes getting down on one knee_

"Dave Strider. Will you marry me?" John bit his lip and held out his hand, showing a silver band nearly identical to the one in the box.

You feel tears streaming down your face but you don't care all you can say was  _yes yes i will marry you john yes yes yes  
  
_ You want to capture this moment like you could shove the feeling into your captchalog and keep it there forever and ever. You want to save the smiles and the tears. You want nothing more than to take the ring and show it to everyone and tell them that  _im married to john egbert now this is everything i ever wanted in life-_

You never thought that the cute boy at the university would become your fianceé. Never in the whole entire world. Even if your own fucking body from the future had come back to show you the ring you would have never believed it.

But now it's happening. You, Dave Elizabeth Strider, are engaged. To John Motherfucking Egbert. Who cares what John's middle name is- you're engaged. 

And you couldn't be happier. 

 

Two cake slices later, John had an idea. "Dave?"

You turn to him and cock an eyebrow. "Yeah, what's up?"

"Do you think...we could..do something?"

"What kind of something? Like, stand on a skyscraper and shout that we're married to the world, or bang each other till we die kind of something?"

John's cheeks lit up, and he mumbled, "The last one."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas.
> 
> But will they fuck? That is the question. The real question. The best question.
> 
> EDIT: That will never be answered, because I never fuckin got to writing it. Sorry friends.


	6. Five Years Pass

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> okay y'all are gonna get diabetes from this chapter  
> better tell your doctors now before its too late and get ready for some fluff so sweet its like cotton candy but with words  
> just drink it in people

Five years later, you and John go house surfing. The two of you were honestly really tired of the apartment you shared. You had found a really nice house in the suburbs, away from the loud-ass city noise. You had turned to him and gave him a thumbs-up and that grin he said loved so much (that was the one night he got kinda tipsy- you didn't really pay attention to it; you took it as a drunken compliment, but it proved to be true). He had smiled this smile that you could tell was bursting with joy- you had found the place. 

John had wasted no time in packing up his stuff the apartment and getting ready to move out. You, however, took your time. You slowly packed the boxes, reminding yourself that all of these things were memories. The record player John put on one time while you made dinner. He'd taken your hands and twirled you around with him. The two of you had slid across the wooden floor, spinning and swinging to the time of the music. That night's dinner burnt, but you didn't care.   
  
You had packed up his piano with him and all the memories of him playing melodies and ballads when he thought he was alone all came back to you. He always plays better when he thinks he's alone. You remember one night, you came home from a rough day of DJ-ing, set your keys on the table, and stood in the doorway of the room you shared while his fingers danced over the keys. He'd looked at you when he finally noticed, wide-eyed, like he'd been caught in the act, and you'd smiled and taken his head in your hands and kissed him silly. You had hauled the bed out the door and plopped in into the moving van, giving it one last pat as the van drove away. You'd remembered sitting in the bed while John was sick, giving him a mug of warm soup and running your hands through his hair.

The night when all the furniture was gone from the apartment complex was the night you went through all the rooms and gave them one last look. The kitchen, with its bare fridge and clean counters. The bedroom, with closed windows (John always kept them open), and the fluffy rug missing (you always enjoyed sinking your toes into the fluff; it was like a massage). The living room, with its scraped wooden flooring-  
 _"don't move the couch like that, Dave, you'll scrape the floor!"_  
 _"too late."_  
-and the red and blue fairy lights gone from the ceiling corners. The bathroom, which didn't really hold a lot of memories, but was still really nice and clean nonetheless.

The night when the apartment was bare was the night you decided you were really going to miss this place. John had sat with you on the floor where the couch used to be, and placed his hand over yours. The two of you had sat in silence, and every now and then, you had felt his fingers slip and slide over the polished silver wedding band you wore. He'd turned to you and smiled. He never said a word, but you saw it in his expression.  _Everything's going to okay, don't you worry. We're turning over a new leaf. I'll miss this place too._

The night when all the furniture was placed perfectly in the house was the night where you couldn't sleep for the first time in a long time. You'd slipped out of bed, careful not to wake Mr. Sleeping Beauty beside you, and went downstairs to the kitchen to make yourself some tea.  _Downstairs. To the kitchen._ It seemed really weird to you at first. The only time you went downstairs in the apartment was to leave.

-

The house seemed big and empty at night. You found you felt safer in the apartment with its lit red and blue corners and small room you'd memorized every nook and cranny of. You felt small in this house with its fucking _balcony_ and spiral staircase you nearly fell off of like five damn times.

Now, sitting in your flimsy garden chair, you suddenly became aware of someone standing next to you. You looked up and John stared back down at you, rubbing his tired, sleepy eyes, and you thought to yourself,  _how did i get stuck with this adorable piece of shit as my soulmate?_ He plopped into the chair beside you and you held his hand over the table that separated you from him.   
  
"What brings you out here?"  
His thumb absentmindedly runs over your knuckles as he replies,  
"Couldn't sleep. Needed you next to me. It got really cold, y'know?"  
You smile and huff out a laugh, placing your hand over your heart and turning to him with a face of mock offense.  
"Am I just a space heater to you, John? Is that all I mean to you?"  
He grins and you and you can't help but notice the way his eyes crinkle when he smiles and _are those the stars sparkling in those baby blues? Damn, did I get lucky._  
  
You slipped your hand away from his and stood up, padding back to the bedroom, knowing he'd follow you. Folding yourself back into the covers, you waited until he was practically nose to nose with you to peck him softly on the lips. He hums contently and closes his eyes, snuggling closer to you and burying his face into your chest. Before you drift off, you hear a muffled,  
"I love you."  
You smile.   
"I love you too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BACK


End file.
